


It Was Enough

by CorrineWrites



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6231829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorrineWrites/pseuds/CorrineWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Vimes writes his will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a couple of weeks ago and posted to tumblr, but today seemed a suitable time to post it here. GNU Terry Pratchett.

Vimes sighed. Six words in and he was already fed up. Well, let that bastard Slant fill in all his ridiculous titles, as far as he was concerned he’d be Sam Vimes until, ha, until his dying day. 

‘The Last Will And Testament of Sam Vimes _.’_ _Here we go then.._.

At least the first one was easy. Sybil, Willikins, and probably most of the Watch would make sure young Sam wanted for nothing, but there was something important Vimes could leave him. ‘My boots, made by Pluggers of New Cobblers.’ _Don’t forget your old dad, Sam._

To Carrot, he’d leave the city. Not that, strictly speaking, it was his to give anyone, but sod ‘em, it was his will and he could do what he liked. The captain might have been expecting to inherit the Watch, but.. no. That needed a more cynical bastard than Carrot was, or ever should be. Fred and Nobby had more of the right way of thinking, but he could hardly suggest them. ‘I entrust the command of the City Watch to Angua Von Uberwald’ _Sorry Angua. You won’t want it any more than Fred and Nobby do, but that’s life for you._

Cheery was easy; she’d get his badge. _Always be who you are, Littlebottom. And Detritus…._ he sighed again. What was there for him to give Detritus? The troll had risen from lowly splatter to one of Vimes’ best and most trusted officers. There was no more he had to give him but at the same time, he couldn’t leave old Detritus out. ‘To Detritus I leave my ceremonial truncheon.’ _Maybe he can use it as a toothpick._

He wouldn’t have given Vetinari a mention, had he not had just the thing for him. ‘To His Lordship Havelock Vetinari I bequeath my Dis-organiser mark five.’ _Let the bastard figure that thing out. Ha, probably take him all of two minutes…_

He came next to Fred and Nobby, who at least were simple. He’d instructed every pub in the city that for the rest of their lives, the pair’s drinks would be paid for by the Ramkin estate. As well as this, Fred would be getting two hundred dollars to take Mrs Colon on a nice holiday, and Nobby would receive a set of silver spoons. _I know you’re smarter than you look, Nobby - well, you’d have to be - but I wonder if you’ll work that one out._ He also wrote a thank you to the pair of them. _And that’s what you’ll remember, isn’t it._

He came last to Sybil, feeling his throat contract and vision blur as he regarded the paper in front of him. _Stop it, you idiot. You’re not saying goodbye, you’re just writing a damn will._

_‘_ To my wife Sybil, I leave all remaining possessions, property and money.’ _It was all yours anyway. ‘_ I gave you all that I had to offer; the love of a scruffy lad from Cockbill Street. I hope it was enough.’


End file.
